I was passively-aggressively unsubscribed from a mailing list because I “wasn’t reading it”. I was, actually, but because my email client blocks images by default (a good thing!), they couldn’t tell. Spy pixel vendors are selling a lie, and unfortunately people (a musician in this case) don’t know better than to believe them.

There is no way to tell that someone isn’t reading your emails. There are ways to tell that they are, if their client loads spy pixels or they click on a tracked link, but you can’t prove the negative. Don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise.

My feet and hands are nearly recovered. My hands are pretty much back to normal, although my fingerprints aren’t reliable for unlocking my phone. My feet are extremely soft where they sloughed off the old layers of skin.

As I was walking back from the shops, someone drove their shiny Mercedes at me on the pavement so that they could get around the barrier in the road. The level of entitlement of some people is astonishing. I don’t think the Tyre Extinguishers go far enough in only letting down the tyres of SUVs: all luxury cars represent a menace to society and the world.

We went to Solve Along a Murder She Wrote at the Prince Charles Cinema. It was great fun, and we’re already planning to go again next time. It turns out that Tim who runs it is a friend of a friend. It’s a small world.

I upgraded my laptop and desktop to Ubuntu 22.04. I didn’t particularly want to, but the version that was on there, from late last year, is already no longer supported as of a fortnight ago. The laptop was painless. The desktop hung halfway through the upgrade. I was able to resume it, but it took four reboots and a bit of fussing before it was back to full health.